


Definitions of Insanity

by Westpass



Series: Insomnia A.M. [5]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Not Natasha Romanoff Friendly, Not Steve Rogers Friendly, Parody
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-25
Updated: 2018-06-04
Packaged: 2019-05-13 14:47:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14750901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Westpass/pseuds/Westpass
Summary: This is all KahunaBurger's and AnonEHouse's fault. Inspired by a comment thread on AnonEHouse's fic  "Insight, Outsight" which is hilarious and you should go read THAT first, then come back here if you feel like it.Happy TGIF!The title comes from the saying that "the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results.'Insane , unbeta'd and unrelated cracky  ficlets ahoy!





	1. Nat's Job Prospects

Nat strolled aboard the donut shaped spacecraft, her expensively dyed blonde hair floating around her head like a swarm of deranged butterflies. She was wearing her signature black catsuit, with the jacket slightly open to hint at her... assets.  
Hey, purple or not, this 'Mad Titan' was still male and by all reports not involved with anyone. Gaining his attention should be easy.  
Of course, keeping it might be a little trickier. Her version of the super soldier serum did enhance her healing slightly, so if he liked to play rough, she could accomodate that. She _had_ been trying to seduce a man who turned into a nine foot tall, 1000 pound rage monster, after all. Even if Banner's issues had derailed that plan. Issues? Please, the man didn't have issues, he had whole magazine stands. 

Thanos' ship landing in New York hadn't been entirely unexpected. She did listen to Stark, whether or not she'd ever seen fit to let him know that she did. His ego didn't need any more inflating.  
She was tired of life as a fugitive. Freedom was all well and good, but Jimmy Choos didn't grow on trees even in Wakanda. Natasha would happily admit that she had an obsessive love of designer shoes. Particularly ones that came with spiky heels that could double as weapons.  
Stark had refused to take her calls.  
So had Nick Fury, or Secretary Ross, or Coulson, or Rhodey, or Pepper, or Thor, or  
...Never mind.  
Thanos had an army capable of destroying whole worlds, and was acquiring Infinity Stones faster than a shopper at Bloomingdale's on Black Friday.  
He'd need trustworthy, cunning, and knowledgeable subordinates. She was sure she'd be able to come to terms with him once they spoke in person.

"What are you doing here?" 

A ...man? Tall, pale as a corpse, thin, with features that resembled some kind of acquatic life. He glared at her. 

"I've come to request an audience with Lord Thanos," Nat said calmly, sketching a bow. Respectful but not yet submissive, she'd save that for later. 

 

"Our lord is not presently aboard this ship," the alien replied. "I am Ebony Maw, one of the Children of Thanos. Do you wish to beg for your species' lives? Their sacrifice is necessary, even glorious. You should rejoice in the coming twilight."

"Necessary? Why?" She didn't even have to fake it this time, her confusion and alarm were very real.

"So few people think to ask," he commented, looking at her thoughtfully. "Chattering animals, most of them. Come, I'll show you if you truly wish to be enlightened. " He raised a hand, touched her cheek. He smelled of burnt meat and seawater, she noticed. Well, she'd dealt with worse. "What is your name, Terran?"

"Black Widow." 

"A good omen. Come this way. " He led her through the ship's corridors, stopping in a small chamber that held what appeared to be a lab of sorts. A table held a fine assortment of knives and some ...needles? that appeared to be carved out of crystal or possibly diamond. Natasha quelled greedy curiosity, as she took a seat that Ebony Maw indicated. 

Chains wrapped themselves around her chest, arms, and legs. She cried out in unexpected pain as she was yanked back against the chair, the restraints digging into her skin.

Ebony Maw smiled. "You thought Thanos would need the likes of you? Oh, how predictable. LIttle spider, he has his pick of the whole galaxy. And," he leaned in to whisper in her ear, "everything _they_ have to offer is real."


	2. Steve's Punching Bags

"Steve, wait!"

Steve ignored Clint and Tony calling after him as he stormed out of the Tower conference room. The meetings ended when the leader of the Avengers SAID so, and that was him, damn it! He knew he wasn't being altogether fair but he was tired, hungry, and thoroughly sick of reporters and the media.  
He headed down to the gym. A workout always made him feel better. Sometimes he went outdoors, running or doing calisthenics in Central Park. Girls watching him was a nice added bonus. He wasn't in the mood today, though, he just wanted something to hit, without consequences or endless "why didn't you tell us what you were planning' lectures.  
He missed the Howling Commandoes. Things had been clear then, they knew their job and who was in charge. Tony's nonstop criticism and backseat driving had got on Steve's last nerve today. The man had never been in the military at all, what qualified him to think he could tell soldiers how to do their jobs??

The gym was deserted. He found a punching bag hung up and ready.

He kept hitting it until his knuckles were sore. The bag was one of those that had been reinforced, after they'd used up the older bags. Really, he didn't know what had taken Stark so long to catch on that his equipment was substandard. Steve had wrecked four of them in under a week!

BLAM. BLAM. BLAM.

"Steve? Steve!"

He choked down an impatient reply as he turned around. "Hey, Nat." You couldn't tell dames not to bother you, these days, or tell them to do much of anything, apparently. Another thing he missed about the 1940S. Though even back then he would have had more sense than to piss off a Black Widow.

"A package came for you. They're holding it at the front lobby's reception desk."

"A package?" He perked up. The last time he'd gotten an unexpected package it had been fan mail. Maybe this was more. If so, it would be a nice change to today's mood.  
He followed her back to the lobby.

The package was a large white box. Steve didn't recognize the sender's name or address, but he signed for it. The weight surprised him a little as he carried it upstairs. He went to the common room. Tony, Nat and Clint watched curiously while he cut through the tape.

*beep* beep* beep*

It was some kind of machine....A new computer? But he couldn't see a screen or keyboard on it anywhere.

"Is ths one of your gadgets, Tony?" he asked.

Tony stood on tiptoe to peer at the box. "...Oh, shit."

"Language!" Steve reprimaned him. "What"?

"It's an IED."

"A what? Speak English!"

Honestly, couldn't Stark talk like a normal guy for once?

Clint and Nat backed away.

"A bomb. Jarvis, get this floor evacuated NOW--Steve, come on!"   
Steve dumped the gadget onto the floor, slamming his shield down over it just as the blinking timer hit "1"

 

 

**B  O  O  M**

 

* * *

"Wha…."

Steve felt as if he'd been kicked by a herd's worth of mules. He got his eyes open. 

Hospital bed. Okay. He had tubes hooked into him in both arms and... _other_ places, which was definitely not okay.

"What happened?" he tried to say. His face was stiff. He could barely work his jaw.

"Captain." An unfamiliar man appeared in his field of view. "How are you feeling?"

"What...Is everyone okay?"

The man pulled a face. "I'm afraid not. You've been unconscious for several days. Do you recall the accident?"

"Explosion... The team?"

"Mr. Stark is alive, but still in critical condition. ...I'm sorry to have to tell you that Agents Romanoff and Barton are deceased."

"But...My shield?"

"The force of the explosion was partly contained, yes, but the IED's shockwave affected a much wider area, including the floor underneath," the...doctor? said regretfully.  
He fiddled with one of the tubes in Steve's arm. "You're suffering from a concussion, as well as lingering other injuries, sir...Oh, excuse me. My name's Dr. Otto Octavius. I'm here at SHIELD's behest. Try not to worry, Captain. Rest. Everything will be fine." 

 

Steve managed a half smile before the drugs took effect.


	3. Bucky's Breakfasts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next two chapters are going to be more silly than salty. I like comics! Bucky, and his portrayal in the MCU I didn't think was that bad UNTIL CA:CW. I'd like him to be something more than a plot puppy. So...

After pulling the stupid and insanely stubborn blond out of the river, the Asset left the area on foot.  
He visited a museum long enough to confirm that yes, 1)the man he'd dragged out of the Potomac was actually the original Steve Rogers, and 2} he'd been telling the truth when he said that the Asset's name was James Buchanan Barnes.

Mission priorities: Find a safe location for recovery and further information gathering. He knew of several emergency caches HYDRA had secreted through the region, hidden stores of weapons, money, equipment. The nearest was a sewer tunnel that ran beneath the Smithsonian. He began to hike in that direction.  
His stomach produced an odd noise, and he felt pains jab through his gut.  
Hunger, he realized after a moment. He supposed that that was to be expected after not eating more than one meal every twenty or thirty years.  
The smells of food cooking drew him to a street vendor who was selling hot coffee and small baked goods. Cookies, that was what they were called.

The man running the food cart looked up, smiling. "Hey, brother. What can I get you? On the house. You look like you need it."

Before he could reply, he caught sight of a man in a blue uniform staring at him. _Local law enforcement personnel. Threat level one. Do not engage._

Oh  
Shit.

The Asset just shook his head and hurried away.  
He spent the rest of the next three days literally underground, chasing off rats and avoiding an alligator that seemed even hungrier than the Asset.

He fled Washington, a fat wallet and a bag of rations tucked into a hastily procured jacket. The cache had held papers that let him assume a false identity. Returning memories told him that HYDRA had several bases in the United States. He wanted as much distance between himself and them as could be managed, which meant going overseas. Someplace small, peaceful and quiet.

HYDRA would want him back or want him eliminated. But then again, those were nearly the same thing. He wouldn't exist as himself anymore when they were done.

Rogers..Well, he hadn't tried to harm the Asset. Or James? Not until the Winter Soldier had attacked first. Fair enough. 

But he had an agenda too, his melodramatics on the helicarrier _as it was exploding_ made that much clear. No. 

~~The Asset~~ Barnes wanted some time to at least remember enough of himself to know what he even wanted to be called, or what *he* wanted, period.

 

Airports had changed in the last few decades. 

The fake ID he carried had allowed him to bring his gear in a carry-on, and no one asked him about the metal arm...

but he was told that the food packet was ...improperly bagged?  
Not wanting to draw further attention to himself, he tossed the packet into a wastebasket.

He sat in the roped in waiting area. 

A take out smoothie bar opened. He went to check out their menu.

"Need some change?"

 

Not Rumlow, or the SandIB Blond.

 

 _Rollins. HYDRA field operative. Threat Level Two. Recommended Course of Action: eliminate._  
Damn it, he just wanted some plums...

He didn't get to eat a single bite until he got off the plane in Bucharest.


	4. Clint's Pregnancy Kink

"Aw, coffee, no," Clint grumbled as he made his way down the supermarket aisle.   
He needed a bribe to soothe Laura's bad mood after he'd stood her and the kids up on their waterskiing. But this stupid place was out of her favorite brands of ice cream *and* French vanilla coffee. Maybe something pricier...but no. The last time he'd brought her a necklace, she'd insisted that as an apology, she wanted _him_ to wear it. In public.  
He avoided anything wearable, after that, and never told Nat why'd he'd vetoed her suggestions of a nice dress or lingerie as a gift.   
Not that there was anything wrong with it; if it made a dude happy, hells, what a couple did in private was their business. But Clint loved being the macho husband and especially father too much to want to "experiment'.

He loved being around pregnant women. After almost twenty years as a SHIELD assassin, the sight of blood or vomit hardly bothered him, and he gave great backrubs. Any of his former girlfriends or partners could testify to that. 

Maria Hill had been so cold to his friendly overtures that he'd complained to the other STRIKE members, not altogether jokingly, that he got frostbite being around her.   
She had never said anything...but he'd found a knife driven into his pillow when he woke up one morning

He'd had some hopes that he and Natasha...Well, why not? A little baby with his brains, her grace and that fiery red hair? But it hadn't panned out. He hadn't known the Red Room sterilized the Black Widows. He'd thought, when he was trying to recruit her to SHIELD, that just shooting her first would be such a waste.   
Nat turned out to be unextremely UNinterested in sleeping with him, though. She'd promised to castrate him with a barbecue fork if he ever tried to kiss her. Clint hadn't been able to look at his Foreman Grill for a whole summer after that.

Ah well, that was just how it went sometimes.

 

HOWever.   
Laura, while undeniably still sweet, clever and beautiful, was getting too old for a pregnancy to be safe. Even when Nathaniel was conceived, the doctor had been a little concerned, wanting her on bed rest the last month and a half. So he would have to consider other methods. 

Now, Wanda, despite what Steve kept saying, was not a kid, and Clint did tend to favor tall brunettes or redheads. And she had powers...How awesome might that be?Hmmm.

Laura wouldn't mind. They had an agreement, that they never brought outside activiities home unless it was an emergency; what happened off the farm stayed off the farm.

 

He shook himself. Get your mind on business, Hawkeye.   
Defeat the weird robot wannabe boyfriend, then rescue the pretty girl. Work before play.

Vision was no Ultron or Loki, after all, and once they caught up with the rest of the team, he'd have Nat and Steve backing him. How hard could it be?


	5. Wanda's Fears

Wanda stared at the TV screen, watching the latest news broadcast.  
The Hulk had wrecked most of downtown Johannesburg. She didn't know what, exactly, the monster had seen when she turned her power loose on him, but it had been a dramatic success. He wasn't listening to anyone. Hopefully Stark would die, though she would have liked to be _there_ to see it happen.

Typical American arrogance. Who in their right mind tried to use the Hulk as a teammate? It was like cuddling up to a live grenade. They should have known better. A "rookie mistake", indeed.  
Ultron entered the deserted Hydra safehouse where they'd come to rest temporarily. She supposed, as a machine, he didn't get tired, but she and Pietro did.  
She looked up and smiled. "So far, so good. " They would have their revenge. For their parents. For Sokovia.  
* * *  
Novi Grad's ruins were still smoking in places as she and her new teammates made their way to a spot outside the zone of impact. She let Rogers escort her to where her brother's body lay, a blanket covering him.  
Wanda didn't cry. HYDRA had trained the twins not to show any weakness, and she wasn't going to start now. Not in front of Stark and his cronies, and certainly not before the other Sokovians. Their losses were as great. 

"Then make up for it," Rogers said when she voiced that thought to him. "Help me and my team protect the innocent. Isn't that why you allowed HYDRA to experiment on you? To gain the power to make a difference in the world?"

She didn't try to correct him. He did have a point, and mentioning that she'd wanted revenge just as much wouldn't endear her to anybody. 

She moved to the new Avengers Compound. Stark protested her inclusion, but the remaining Avengers spoke up for her. She didn't let herself gloat, even when he turned slightly pale at seeing her demonstrate her telekinesis to Falcon and War Machine.  
He'd had his chance to prove himself, and failed. Now it was Wanda's turn. She wouldn't let him hide her away like a dirty little secret.  
He had no power over her anymore, and he had best keep that in mind too.  
* * *  
She couldn't believe it when Vision refused to allow her to leave the Compound. _Her_ Viz, as special in his own way as Pietro had been, and he was taking Stark's side against her?!  
Iron Man would pay for this.  
She'd played by his rules to avoid hurting people she cared for, not because she had no choice.  
HE may have thought that he could hold her against her will, but he and his followers were about to learn otherwise.

 

They split up after their escape from the Raft. A group wasn't going to avoid recapture. Clint needed to go home to his family. So did Scott Lang.  
She settled in Europe, under a false identity Nat gave her.  
It wouldn't be forever. The world would need the Avengers again. She trusted Steve's judgment in that.  
Vision came to find her, and she forgave him readily for their confinement. It hadn't been his choice, after all. She would never do anything to reject or hurt those she loved.


End file.
